


Dancing the Remigold

by Farashe



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dancing, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-25 01:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3791038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farashe/pseuds/Farashe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no."<br/>"I think I'd like to see that."<br/>"For you, maybe. But it has to be a pretty dress."</p><p>Elissa intends to collect on that "maybe" Alistair gave her at Ostagar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing the Remigold

There was a gown laid out on the bed. Alistair eyed it with confusion. There had been other gowns laid on this bed before. He was married after all, and his wife enjoyed wearing beautiful clothes almost as much as she enjoyed beheading darkspawn. But _this_ gown was different.

Not that it wasn’t a lovely dress. Rich silks in the browns and golds of the Theirin house, beautifully tatted lace. Its design was simple yet elegant, certainly the kind of thing Elissa would wear. But it was too large. Alistair knew the size of his wife better than any seamstress ever could. He knew the exact span of her waist, the precise volume of her breasts, every inch of her limbs, and so he knew that this gown would hang off of her. No item so finely made could be a mistake, could it?

He walked closer to the mysterious garment and saw a note pinned to the bodice. He detached it and read:  
  
       _I hope this is pretty enough, your Majesty.  
             ~Elissa_

From his wife? Addressed to him? He frowned slightly.

“Will you dance the Remigold with me, Alistair?” a voice said from behind him. The tone was serious, but he could hear the laughter behind it, and he began to grin as he turned. Elissa stood there in black breeches and a deep blue silk shirt embroidered with silver. Her hair was braided and pinned up, adorned only by a single red rose. She struck an heroic pose and Alistair’s grin grew wider. She looked positively dashing.

Apparently he was staring because his wife quirked an eyebrow at him in impatience. “Do you remember?”

Alistair blushed. “I believe I said ‘maybe’, Elissa.” She pouted, which naturally drew his eyes to her lips. He desperately wanted to kiss her (he always desperately wanted to kiss her), and any resolve he might have had crumbled. “Maker’s breath! Yes!” He looked at the dress again while she grinned impishly at him. “I have no idea how to put this on, you know.”

Her smile shifted to something more sultry, and Alistair gulped. Andraste’s tits, they were married! How she still managed to make him feel like a bumbling teenager to her radiant goddess, he never knew.

“Why Alistair, I would be happy to help you dress.” She walked slowly toward him. And then she was right in front of him, so close he could smell the scent from the rose in her hair; her hands played with the ties of his shirt. He placed his own at her waist to steady himself. “But the first step, I think, is to get you _undressed_. Don’t you agree?” She tugged the ties loose then trailed her hands down his chest and abdomen before slowly untucking the shirt.

His hands clenched on her hips, and he pulled her to him bringing his lips to hers in a fiery kiss. She broke away after a few moments.

“None of that, your Majesty, or we’ll never get to our dance,” her eyes sparkled, but her delivery was slightly breathless. It filled Alistair with wonder that he affected her that way. She finished tugging his shirt free from his breeches and began pulling it up. He had to let go of her waist to bring up his arms so she could get it off. The feel of her fingers against his bare chest made him light-headed, and he worried he’d fall over now that he wasn’t anchored to her.

Her fingers’ next destination was the front of his breeches. Alistair hissed at the sensation. He put his hands on Elissa’s shoulders and leaned forward to press his forehead to hers while he panted, trying desperately to hang onto his control. She chuckled softly and continued to slowly, oh so slowly, unlace his pants.

Once she was finished with the laces, she began to slide the fabric down his hips, and Alistair couldn’t stand it any longer. He growled and pulled her against him again, kissing her lips, her jaw, nibbling his way from her ear to her neck. All the while his hands clutched at the fabric of her shirt, attempting to free her of the garment so he could feel her skin against his.

“Alistair!” Elissa gasped then sighed with pleasure as his lips found her favorite spot on her throat. A few more moments though and she was pushing at his shoulders and disentangling herself from him. “Alistair!” she said sternly, “ _I_ am already dressed. You’ll muss my clothes.”

He pouted at her, then tried to grab her waist again. She evaded him easily and slapped at his hands.

“No puppy dog eyes, Alistair! You promised me a dance, and I will have it.” She smirked at him, and Alistair felt his knees go weak. “Then, perhaps, I’ll let you have a reward. But only if you’re good.”

He thought about that for a long moment. He was very seriously considering being _bad_ instead. “Fine,” he said at last. He could refuse this woman nothing after all. She grinned at him. “But you will get exactly what you deserve for being such a tease.”

She batted her eyelashes at him. “Promise?”

“Minx,” he growled, and she chuckled as she went back to removing his clothes. Alistair gritted his teeth and hoped he would survive this. Honestly, he didn’t think his odds were very good.

A while later, and after only a couple more interruptions (honestly, Alistair didn’t know how Elissa could truly expect him to resist her, not when she was _smiling_ that way), Alistair stood before the bedroom’s full-length mirror dressed in the gown while his wife stood beside him, convulsed with giggles.

He glared at her, and she slowly got herself under control. Then she turned to him and gave him a perfect, elegant bow and held her hand out to him. “Oh fair maiden, would you do me the honor of giving me this dance?” She smiled up at him.

He cleared his throat and felt his face redden. “Oh handsome knight, it would be such a pleasure,” he replied over-acting for all he was worth. He attempted to give her a curtsy but almost fell over. She snorted with sudden laughter and took his hand.

“We don’t have any music,” he pointed out.

“We’ll be fine,” she said and began leading him through the steps. He stumbled a couple times. He had never been the best dancer, and it felt odd to not be leading, but she danced as skillfully as ever.

“Where did you learn to lead?”

She smiled. “Fergus would teach me the dances before I was old enough to start lessons myself. Of course, he only knew the male part so that’s what I learned first. My dancing instructor nearly despaired of ever breaking me of always trying to lead once my formal lessons began.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” he asked with wonder.

“Cook,” she reminded him promptly. It was true. Everyone had dreaded when it was her turn to cook their camp meals during the Blight.

“All in all, I think I’ll keep you around anyway. Despite that shortcoming.”

She led him through the last few steps of the dance, and they ended hands clasped between them.

“Thank you for the dance, your Majesty,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome, your Majesty,” he replied then let go of her hands so he could bring his to cup her face. “Now, I believe you mentioned a reward?” He kissed her softly.

“Hmmm,” she said as he pulled away. “I think we should put away these fine clothes first. Wouldn’t want to damage them.” She wound her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him. “After that, I’m all yours.”

“As I am yours, Elissa,” he said then went about proving it to her.

**Author's Note:**

> Alistair, my one, true fictional love. I hope you enjoyed my Alistair fluff. I certainly enjoyed writing it!


End file.
